Tuesday, November 28, 2006

November 8, 2005: Open books...

Are far more useful than those closed.Closed books are paperweights and doorstops;Open books are imaginations flooding pages.I could take a closed book and sling it at your head,but to open it up and fling it at you like a frisbee might be more fun.The pages would flutter and ripple, the sound would dimplethe plane of tense silence. Open books make time for laughter.The rich smell of an old book is staunched by its closing,To open it releases its age, the textured worn pages, thegrocery store receipt left in it months ago, or perhaps a letter.Open books have yet surprises: one can not look at alla book's pages at once. Though cracked and creasedthe binding may be, paragraphs broken by paginationspill, and roar through chapters, water chasing broken piecesof levies. Let me spill and roar, let me take words, paragraphs,chapters to explain. I would be an open book, any day, rather than close my pages, so surely removing myself from the mind's eye.

About Me

I'm a historian-in-training working on southern women's history. Right now, I'm in the middle of writing my master's thesis on the early period of woman suffrage in Alabama.

I've moved 16 times in my life. I've got friends from one side of the Atlantic to the other. History is one of the few things I don't think I could ever give up. Books are probably my favorite physical possession and coffee is my ambrosia. I never intended to end up in Mobile but I came back because this is where my credits are.

Among the lessons I've learned: I feel less alone by myself than in a crowd of people, friends are fleeting-the ones that stick around are worth keeping, relationships shouldn't be used as a buffer for loneliness or as a reason for happiness, family-for better or worse- will always be family, and a pretty spring day can cure just about any ill if you let it.